Intimacy
by silver blood
Summary: It’s easy to let a secret break your heart no matter whose secret. AUish Trory. Explanation inside. Rating will go up.
1. The Calm Before the Storm

**Story Title: Intimacy**

**Author: **Silver Blood

**Summary: **It's easy to let a secret break your heart; no matter whose secret. AU-ish Trory. Explanation inside.

**A/N:** Okay, basically it's all the same. But this story is set at Rory's 17th Birthday party. She is with Dean and the kiss at Madeline's party did happen, except it went on a bit longer and almost went further. OK on with the story...

**Chapter One: The Calm Before the Storm**

**What you do on your own time's just fine.  
My imagination's much worse, I just never want to know.  
What meant the world imploded, faded, and demoted  
All my oxygen to product gas, and suffocated my last chance**

-Fall Out Boy

His hands felt wonderful. They touched her intimately, as if they had the right; caressing, skimming the creamy thighs underneath her skirt.

They always made her feel this good.

"Rory, are you in there?"

She tried to push him away, but he refused to lose an inch. It had taken him a while to get this close. She was nervous about being with him, like this, under her grandmother's roof.

"Yeah, Grandma, I'll be out in a minute."

Emily sighed noisily.

"Well won't you hurry? You've been in there fifteen minutes. You're being incredibly rude to your guests."

Rory's sigh had nothing to do with her grandmother's words and everything to do with the blonde whose fingers were working magic, now caressing her stomach.

Rory heard footsteps echoing away.

She practically purred when calloused hands found her, slipping into her almost effortlessly. He let out a guttural moan at finding her so wet, and a tingle of feminine pride ran down her spine.

He removed his hands, the pleasure Rory had been steeped in abruptly halted.

He pressed himself against her, his dress pants rough against her inner thighs. Her leg remained wrapped around his waist, her back pressed against the edge of the sink. She strained against him and his lips found her neck.

"Mary, I want you."

She hadn't heard his voice quite like this before. It was gentle; not pressuring or demanding. His lips on her neck were skimming her almost reverently. Her voice held the same qualities.

"No. Not like this."

He buried his face in her hair and took a deep breath. Taking a few steps back, he left Rory feeling cold and exposed, her skirt around her waist. She quickly pulled it down and adjusted herself.

Tristan sighed, frustrated, and ran a hand through his hair.

She didn't know how it hurt him. She couldn't know.

It wasn't her fault. He'd been the one who started the 'relationship' despite the fact that she had a boyfriend.

True, she'd been willing almost immediately to take whatever he gave, but it wasn't her fault that it tore him up inside every time he gave and received nothing in return.

She wouldn't let him kiss her. It was as if she reserved that for Dean. She wouldn't lay her hands on him, unless encouraging his actions. She tried her best not to respond, but sometimes she let herself go. Those were the times she was the most beautiful.

Maybe it was the only way her conscience could deal with infidelity. He didn't know, and he sure as hell tried not to care. But it was too late.

He was sunk.

He wanted to kiss her, to wrap his arms around her and hold her close. He wanted to feel her lips on his, the soft texture and relentless passion he knew he would discover there.

He wanted to hold her hand while they walked down the street, through Chilton, at parties like these where nothing mattered as much as having someone there to make them bearable.

"Rory..."

Her eyes found his quickly. He rarely called her by her actual name.

He couldn't help but notice her skin was flushed. Her eyes were glazed and her lips wet and red as rubies, looking as if they were waiting to be kissed.

It was times like these he wanted her the most, needed her the most.

It was times like these, when she was completely subdued with pleasure, that he loved her the most.

"Do you want me?"

It amazed him that she could still blush after the way she'd just allowed him to touch her.

She bit her lip and looked down.

"Baby, please..."

She didn't say anything in return, so he stepped forward.

"I need to know, Rory. Tell me you want me. I just need to hear it."

He was close now; one more step brought him against her again.

"I'm not losing my virginity in a bathroom, Tristan!"

He put his arms around her waist, an intimate gesture coming from him.

"But you would? With me?"

She looked up at him, ready to deny the desire she displayed clearly in her eyes, and stopped.

His eyes were so intense... so full of hope and want for something she couldn't decipher. Her voice caught in her throat and she wanted to cry, very suddenly.

Her eyes wandered down to his lips. She had tasted them before and wanted to again. But in the months since she and Tristan had begun their relationship he had yet to kiss her. She had yet to let him.

Curiosity drove her, as much as passion, and her lips found his.

The touch of her lips, soft as rose petals, sent a jolt through him. It had been so long, so fucking long since he tasted her. But he didn't let himself snap. He didn't let his control spiral. He tightened his arms fractionally around her and kept his demands light, waiting for her.

He couldn't believe she was touching him, kissing him, as if she truly did want him.

Her hands traveled up his chest and linked behind his neck. Her fingers found his hair, so soft. She pulled him closer, trying to deepen the kiss, angling her chin up and flicking her tongue to meet his lips.

He groaned and didn't hesitate to grant her access to his own tongue.

Slowly, Rory slid. Eyes squeezed shut, heart pounding, she relaxed completely against him. Neither recognized this as the calm before the storm.

He took advantage of her pliancy, lifting her onto the counter, moving to stand between her spread legs. As intimate as it was, there was nothing sexual in this gesture. He simply wanted to be closer.

Nerve endings were shooting everywhere, a sense of belonging coming over them both not for the first time during one of their interludes. The feeling of contentment was so complete Rory nearly wept with it.

Her arms began to pull him closer, demand suddenly emanating from her. He didn't know how much longer he could stand it.

He was so much taller, her arms kept tightening but it was nearly impossible to bring him closer. He groaned as she tightened her legs around him along with her arms, bringing herself off the counter and leaving her suspended in the air, wrapped tightly around him. His arms tightened, then his hands came to her thighs, holding her in place.

The knock at the door startled them both.

"Ror, hon? You okay in there?"

Pushing herself off of Tristan, he let her legs drop quietly to the floor.

She took a deep breath.

"Yeah. I'll be out in a minute."

"Okay. Are you ready to go?"

Not looking away from Tristan, Rory nodded.

"Yeah. Get my coat."

Lorelai's footsteps echoed away and Tristan stepped closer again.

"What is this, Mary? What are we doing?"

His voice wasn't gentle anymore. Her eyes turned to ice.

"Nothing. Not anymore."

His eyes narrowed.

"What the hell does that mean?"

She hated that his tone scared her.

Not because she felt threatened, as she was sure he'd meant to make her feel, but because she could feel the pain in every syllable just as she heard it. She may not understand it, but it was there.

"I can't do this anymore. It was fun while it lasted, but you seem to be getting attached."

It hurt her to say it. It hurt him to hear it. But neither would have admitted it.

"Oh come on Mary, you honestly think I'm getting attached?"

She lifted her chin defiantly.

"Yes, I do."

His eyes were flashing and his heart ached, but he managed to chuckle sadistically.

"Your loss. But just so you know, I would've been gone before the sheets cooled down."

And suddenly he was gone. Angry, yes. But hurt more than anything.

She didn't know how untrue his words were.

Rory let a few tears slide down her face before she saw her mom appear in the doorway with her coat. She knew she'd seen Tristan leave the bathroom.

"What happened, sweets? Did he hurt you?"

Rory just shook her head and let her mother embrace her.

A/N: Review Please.


	2. A Little Less 16 Candles a Little More

**Story Title: Intimacy**

**Author: **Silver Blood

**Summary: **It's easy to let a secret break your heart; no matter whose secret. AU-ish Trory. Explanation inside.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing. Do not sue me, it will make me cry!

**A/N:** The Response from the first chapter was amazing. I haven't been doing well with updating, but I have about ten versions of this chapter written and I didn't know which to use. I hope you like this one, it's my favorite. THANK YOU TO ALL MY READERS! Much love to you all.

**Chapter Two : A Little Less Sixteen Candles, A Little More "Touch Me"**

**Write me off, give up on me**

**Cause darling, what did you expect?**

**I'm just off, a lost cause**

**A long shot, don't even take this bet**

-Fall Out Boy

Her nails clawed down his back. He shivered above her, digging his teeth into her bottom lip.

"Tristan!"

He kissed her quickly to shut her up.

His eyes closed.

The voice wasn't right. It was too high, too smooth, too girly.

He moved down to kiss her neck, and she wiggled against him.

He concentrated hard on blocking out her breathy moans.

Behind his eyelids was Rory, looking up at him, blue eyes clouded.

Underneath him, surrounding him, was another brunette.

Her eyes may be brown, her heaving chest much too large, but her hair was exactly the right shade.

And she was willing.

Tristan tightened his eyes and focused only on the not-so-tightness around him, speeding up. He heard her cry of completion but blocked it out. And then it was over.

After he got rid of the condom, she reached for him.

"That was amazing, Tris. If I'd known you were that good, maybe I would have let you fuck me sooner."

He held back a cruel laugh and started to dress, standing just out of her reach.

"Hey, I wanna go again... Come back."

Her pout didn't turn him on the way Rory's did. Her whiny tone made him flinch.

Tristan left the room, fully dressed and without another word, disgusted with himself.

Despite the fact that he'd had several too many shots, Tristan climbed into his Porsche and pealed out, leaving the scent of burnt rubber lingering behind him.

* * *

Rory was reading when she heard pounding on the front door. She assumed her mother had forgotten her keys and naively opened the door without looking outside first.

At the fury in Tristan's eyes she tried to slam it closed again but he caught it with his foot and shoved his way inside.

Rory recognized the look on his face; angry and more than a little drunk. She'd seen the look before and knew what it meant; either passion or violence.

Sometimes both.

Her fear was tinged with arousal.

His hand went around her neck and pushed her against the wall. She gasped as he gripped tight but left her room to breath.

"This is your fault. I can't even enjoy a good recreational fuck anymore and it's your fucking fault!"

Rory tried to calm him down and ignore his words but he caught her hands and held them over her head.

"I fucked someone tonight. I smell like her perfume. I smell like sex."

Rory shook her head and tried to pull out of his bruising grip, but he just leaned closer. His voice lowered.

"She was damn good, too, Mary."

She struggled harder, as if her life depended on it.

She was sure her heart did.

"She was incredibly responsive, like you are when I get you hot enough."

His tongue ran up her neck. She couldn't help but tilt her head back to make it easier for him.

"She had a chest on her. Man, that girl was built."

His teeth sunk in hard enough to send panic down her spine. His voice dropped to a whisper. He was going to make her hurt if it was the last thing he did.

"She knew just how to squeeze her muscles around me. A virgin like you couldn't do that, could you Mary?"

She wanted to kick him, wanted to punch him, but his grip on her hands hadn't lightened. She looked into his eyes now, begging silently for relief from his cold words. But it wasn't time for relief yet.

"And she made me cum. Hard."

Rory couldn't stop the tears from slicing down her cheeks, making her equally angry with herself and the boy who held her. Tristan stepped even closer, so that they were pressed together now.

"Do you want to know why I came so hard, Mary?"

She shook her head, closing her eyes, and tried to block out the painful words.

She just wanted him to leave so she could break down by herself.

"Tristan, please stop!"

His anger vanished suddenly and he released her wrists. Instead he dropped his forehead down against hers and slid his arms around her waist. Hers came gradually down to his shoulders. Suddenly, Tristan began to laugh.

"Her hair was the color of yours. That's why, Rory. I closed my eyes, and pretended it was you. And I came inside her with only you in my mind."

She choked on a sob as he pulled her closer, and struggled not to cling to him for comfort. Neither heard the back door open.

"I hate that I did that. I hate that I don't feel guilty for using her. I hate myself, Rory. I want to stop hating myself. Help me, please."

She had almost successfully blocked the rest of her tears, to be released after he left. She tried to be angry. Her hands shoved at his chest.

"You don't deserve help, Tristan! How can I make you stop hating yourself when I hate you just as much?"

He flinched as if he'd been punched in the gut. The wind was knocked out of him.

"I'm sorry, Rory. Please don't say you hate me. You know it's not true. Please. Tell me it's not true."

"I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!"

Her fists hit his chest rapidly until his arms pulled her against him and stilled them between them.

"I have a boyfriend, remember! This thing with you, I ended it for a reason! You can fuck whoever you want. You always have anyway, I'm sure."

He stepped back, not touching her.

"You're right, Rory. You ended it. But between the time I started it and you ended it, I didn't so much as kiss another girl. Even when you wouldn't come near me for weeks at a time. You do have a boyfriend, you can't exactly say the same."

"But I didn't use that to hurt you! You show up here, drunk, bragging about a girl you had sex with less than an hour ago and-"

He couldn't keep his voice low.

"You ended it! You don't get to be heartbroken!"

She laughed.

"Trust me, I'm not!"

He deflated again, slightly, but enough that Rory saw the full effect of her words.

"I know I shouldn't have come here. But you're right, I'm drunk. And I'm an idiot."

He turned to walk out the door. His last words were nearly inaudible.

"And more sorry than you'd understand."

Before Tristan could walk through the door, Lorelai's voice stopped him.

"Tristan. How much have you had to drink?"

He turned around, looking guilty and scared.

"I'm fine to drive."

Before he could turn to leave again:

"How many drinks? Now."

He mumbled something.

"Repeat that, a little louder."

Tristan could hear barely restrained anger in her voice.

"A few beers and a few shots."

Narrowing her eyes, Lorelai walked over and looked into his own.

"You have had way more than that, Tristan. You're not driving home. Can someone come pick you up?"

Tristan laughed.

"Yeah, I'm sure one of the maids would be happy to."

Only because she heard and understood the loneliness in his voice did the next words escape Lorelai's mouth.

"You can sleep on the couch."


End file.
